The Silver Key
by shivvyshiv435
Summary: Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts is full of changes and surprises. First, after a strange dream, he is given a key by a strange old man. The new DADA teacher knows something about the famous trio, Harry is quite sure. R/Hr get weirder by day. Long!
1. Dream, dream, dream

Chapter 1: Dream, Dream, Dream Disclaimer:I own none of them.... **********  
  
Harry Potter awoke with a start.  
  
Two days before his birthday, Harry was lying awake in the middle of the night, risen by a dream.  
  
It hadn't been a nightmare; no, nightmares were scary. This dream wasn't scary. It wasn't even bad. This had just been...weird. This dream consisted of an old man; a strange old man of whom he'd never seen in his life. The man was fairly tall, extremely thin, and had a bald head. Where he did have hair it was white, and he wore a Muggle suit. The man had given Harry an envelope, told him to open and not to expect, and left with a final wink.  
  
Then Harry woke up.  
  
The first thing he thought he ought to do was to tell his godfather, Sirius. But he knew instantly that Sirius would worry (Harry's dreams caused nearly everyone to worry), and Harry did not want that in the least. Especially if there was no reason to be doing so.  
  
Harry's next inclination was to write to one of his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They had met in school, and they had been best friends since nearly the start. Harry had a hunch that, if he wrote to either, he should write to Ron. Ron wouldn't make a big deal out of it. But he knew Hermione would. She would act like an adult, telling him to write to their school headmaster, and even to Sirius.  
  
There was, of course, a reason for this.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not ordinary teenagers. As a matter of fact, they were the farthest thing from ordinary. They were wizards.  
  
It had been when Harry was a little baby of no more than a year old the Dark Lord of the wizarding world, Lord Voldemort, had been on a major rise to power. It was mass destruction; murders, torture, kidnap, and above all, fear. One night, Voldemort had come to baby Harry's home and killed his parents. But when Voldemort raised his accursed wand to Harry, nothing happened (with the minor exception of a lightening bolt-shaped scar on the center of his forehead). Voldemort fled at once, diminished to near nothingness, and Harry Potter was instantly known throughout the wizarding world as "The Boy Who Lived".  
  
However, Harry never knew any of this till he was eleven years old. He had been sent to live wit the Dursleys, his only family left in the world. They were horrible to him, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon . They were at a constant to spoil Harry's horrid cousin, Dudley, made him sleep in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years of his life, and did a number of other things.  
  
Then, one day, Harry received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and was taken into a life-changing world which he never would have thought existed. He met his best friends, with whom he'd faced life and death situations (as well as the petty ones) with every year they had known one another. But, in their most recent year at Hogwarts (their 4th), Voldemort had begun another rise to power, this time with more protection and aids than ever before. It was now that everyone, including his best friends, was to be worried.  
  
Harry raised himself from the bed, resolving not to write to anyone, and looked out the window from the Dursley's home on Privet Drive. He hated summer holidays, only because he was forced to spend them here. Harry felt his brow furrowing and told himself to relax. In two days time he would not only turn fifteen, but also get a very excellent birthday present. He was going to finish his summer holidays at the Weasley's.  
  
Harry smiled for what might have been the first time in days. Good, he thought. Very good. ********************* Okay, this is just a starter. I really want to know what you all think, though, so PLEASE review. And remember to be honest. I know there's not really much plot yet, but trust me, I've got sooooo much planned, including some R/H romance!  
  
REVIEW PLEEEASE! 


	2. Windows, Wonderings, and Whatnot

Disclaimer: I own none of them.... ***************  
  
Harry had begun to pace about his room.  
  
If Uncle Vernon were to see him, he would say that Harry was mad. If Mrs.Weasley were to see him, she would say it was the simple slice of cheese he had received from Aunt Petunia for lunch. If Ron or Hermione were to see him they would say he was worried about something.  
  
That was exactly right.  
  
Not only was it two o'clock, but it was also pretty late. The Weasleys had promised to be there by noon, and two hours had long since passed. What if Uncle Vernon took away Harry's promise to be able to go with them? Unle Vernon wasn't aware of the Weasley Tardy Tendency, as Ron once put it, and he was also looking for any possible way to make Harry miserable. He sat down on his bed.  
  
A minute later, without so much as a knock, Uncle Vernon stormed into his room.  
  
"Where are those bloody..things?!?" he yelled furiously.  
  
"I haven't the slightest-"Harry was cut off.  
  
"They're your responsibility! Don't tell me you haven't got one bloody clue, or else!"  
  
"Or else what?" Harry stood up, suddenly a lot more angry than when he started out.  
  
"Or else I'll..."  
  
"Nothing!" a voice said behind them.  
  
Harry turned around to see Fred and George Weasley in his doorway, with a very grumpy looking Aunt Petunia just behind.  
  
"Why you little...!" Uncle Vernon's face was turning a very deep shade of purple, and he looked about ready to jump on the boys.  
  
"Oh!"Fred said absently."Sorry, meant no disrespect to you, sir." He gave a mischevious grin which Harry smiled at. "We just meant there's no reason to fight; we're here now."  
  
Uncle Vernon didn't look very happy about this at all, as his last chance (for a whole year) to make Harry miserable was gone. He trudged out the door in a huff, headed straight for Aunt Petunia.  
  
Fred and George moved toward Harry, one lifting his trunk, and the other lifting his owl, Hedwig, in her cage.  
  
"Well, hello, Harry," George said, "How ya been?"  
  
"As good as you can get in this place,"Harry muttered quietly.  
  
"Can't say that would be too good, now would it, Fred?" George said, glancing at his twin.  
  
"Nope, nope, nope," Fred said, shaking his head. "Oh, right! Happy birthday, Harry!" he said, slapping Harry's back.  
  
"Happy birthday, that's right!"George agreed."But we'd best be off. If we're any later to the car Dad'll worry."  
  
Harry nodded both happily and sheepishly as they proceeded to the stairs. Then he closed the door to number four Privet Drive without a goodbye to the Dursleys. He preferred it that way, and, he knew, so did they. ******************** Outside, Harry immediately recognized teh car parked in the driveway. It was the car him and Ron had been forced to fly (it was bewitched by Mr.Weasley) when they had missed their train to school in their second year. It looked all fixed now, but Harry knew it had problems flying long distances, and was therefore apprehensive about entering it. He climbed in, however, and found Mr.Weasley at the steering wheel with Ron in the backseat next to himself.  
  
"Hello, Harry," Mr.Weasley said brightly. "Happy birthday! It's good to see you again."  
  
"You too, Mr.Weasley,"Harry said, grinning.  
  
"Happy birthday, Harry," Ron said.  
  
"Hey." The smile on Harry's face couldn't get any bigger.  
  
Ron, obviously sensing Harry's tension about the car, leaned in and whispered. "Don't worry, it doesn't fly anymore."  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Good thing,too,"he said and smiled again.  
  
The ride to the Burrow (as the Weasley home was commonly referred to) was pretty long and considerably tiring, but only reminded Harry of his fondness for the Weasley clan. More than once the subject of school came up, hereby producing several groans at a time. Harry, however, did not participate, as he always found Hogwarts to be his true home. He began to think on this when a drifting thought woke him from his reverie.  
  
"Is Hermione coming?"he asked Ron.  
  
"Uhhh..."Harry saw Ron's cheeks go just the slightest shade of pink. "Yeah. I owled her and she wrote me back."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So what?"  
  
"So when is she coming?"Harry asked.  
  
"Today, I reckon." He looked down as he said it, and suddenly became very interested in the shirt he was wearing. The twins exchanged knowing glances (accompanied by devious grins), and Harry, fearing for his friend's life, decided to change the subject.  
  
"Say, uh...is there any food? I'm starved,"he lied quickly.  
  
"Well, there's no food in the car, sorry, but we're nearly home."Mr.Weasley turned around to smile."Don't worry."  
  
Harry nodded shortly and began to stare out the window. Why was Ton starting to blush when he brought up Hermione? It wasn't like it was some strange girl or something, it was Hermione! Their best friend for five years now! Harry couldn't quite understand it. In fact, he didn't even want to bother with trying. It was probably just one of those days. Or maybe he was the one who was paranoid.  
  
They arrived shortly at the Burrow, and Harry took one look at it and felt at home. He entered through the homey kitchen with Ton to find the stout Mrs.Weasley waving her wand at the sink to get the dishes done. As soon as she saw Harry, however, she gave him a tight, motherly hug.  
  
"Hello, Harry dear!" she exclaimed."How are you? How have the Muggles been to you?"She said the latter with a slightly disgusted expression, not surprisingly. Mrs.Weasley had always hated the Dursleys.  
  
"Well, I'm fine now,"Harry replied with a grin.  
  
Ron stuffed an apple into his mouth and, before Harry could stop him, said, "He's starved, Mum."  
  
"Oh, I knew it!"she cried angrily and sat Harry down at the table. "I knew they weren't feeding you properly! It's a good thing I have plenty of leftovers. Why didn't you tell me, Harry dear?"  
  
Instead of replying, Harry shot Ron a look acroos the table. Ron sat there with his mouth stuffed, silently laughing at the scene before him.  
  
Mrs.Weasley fed both boys until they almost exploded (or so it felt), then shooed them out of the kitchen. "Hermione will show up in the fireplace at any minute,"she said."Ginny and the twins are in there. Off with you both!"  
  
Both boys entered the living room to find George, Fred, and Ginny lounging around.  
  
"Hello there,"George said.  
  
"Hey,"Ron said. "What's going on?"  
  
"Ginny's still not talking to us,"Fred replied.  
  
Ron turned his attention to Ginny."Oh, get over yourself and quit being such a huge bitch."  
  
Ginny glared at him.  
  
Harry couldn't help but be amused. "What happened?"he asked.  
  
Now Ron was laughing along with the twins.  
  
"Oh,"said Fred,"two days ago, Ginny brought home this boy."  
  
"What was his name again, Ginny?"George asked. "Greg? Jake? Jason? Yes, that was it. Jason."  
  
"Well, George and I just wanted to be hospitable hosts,"continued Fred, "so we offered him one of our homemade sweets." He gave Harry a horribly devious grin.  
  
Harry was silently laughin. "I can guess the rest. Another Weasley creation?"  
  
"Yeah, but this one was unlike any other we've ever made. This one grew your teeth out! Like, feet long! You should've seen this guy, Harry. It was...Oh, God, it was such a riot."  
  
At this point, Ginny chose to pick her magazine (as well as herself) off the floor and started to leave.  
  
"Oh, Ginny, don't go!" Ron said, doubled over with laughter.  
  
She crept over to the couch where the boys were seated. She leaned in to the twins and hissed,"I would suggest you two grow up an stop being such fucking bastards."  
  
"Ooooh,"Fred said, which prodded the twins to delve into even deeper hysterics. Ginny walked off, and by this time, all four boys were going crazy from the image of an unsuspecting boy with teeth growing like mad.  
  
"My God,"Harry breathed."I take it he didn't come back here again."  
  
"Nah, of course not,"George said."He was an asshole anyway!"he called to the stairs, which, Harry assumed, was a response to Ginny's leaving.  
  
"But you really should've seen him,"Fred said."His teth were nearly down to his belt! He almost looked like Hermione!"  
  
Ron stopped laughing briefly. "You mean the old Hermione."  
  
"Yeah, so?" Fred replied. "What's it to you?"  
  
"Nothing..I just.." Ron looked down from the twins' grins.  
  
Before there was another word spoken, there was a poof in the fireplace and there Hermione stood. She had her hair unusually smooth today, and was in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. She had her trunk and her cat, Crookshanks, in his cage. She coughed up some soot from the fireplace.  
  
"Well, hello everyone!" she said cheerily and stepped out of the fireplace. "Happy birthday, Harry!" she said and quickly hugged him. "Hello, Ron,"she said just a little more quietly. She hugged him slowly, almost awkwardly, and Harry saw the twins snicker. "Hello Fred and George,"Hermione proceeded. "What were you laughing at?" she asked curiously.  
  
This once again prodded the twins into further laughter.  
  
"It's nothing,"Harry said, eyeing Ron's reddening face."Let's go upstairs, shall we?"  
  
"Why?"Hermione's brow furrowed. "Are you all right, Harry?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, there's just something I wanted to talk to you both about."  
  
Once they were safely up in Ron's room, Harry managed to relax a little. Ron was reclining on his bed reading a Chudley Cannons (their favorite Quidditch team) book. Hermione was looking around teh pigsty that was Ron's room.  
  
"Honestly, Ron, you should really keep this place tidier,"Hermione said, examining the crowded floor."  
  
"Why do you care?" Ron asked, not bothering to look up.  
  
"It's for your own good," Hermione started in her bossy, teacher's pet sort of voice, but suddenly dropped it. "But just forget it. Harry, what is it you wanted to talk to us about?"  
  
Harry, meanwhile, was experiencing momentary shock. Hermione Granger drop a fight with Ron Weasley? Give up an argument? And Ron was actually letting her? Harry thought the sky must've fallen, and he even glanced at the window just to be sure. This caused Hermione to ask him, "Harry, are you sure you're all right? Really?"  
  
"Oh!" he said, coming back to life. "Yes, I'm fine."  
  
"Then what was it you wanted to talk to us about?" Ron asked.  
  
"Well, I had this dream a couple nights ago.."He told them all about the strange dream he had in the middle of the night a while ago.  
  
"I think you should write to Dumbledore," was Hermione's instantaneous reaction.  
  
"Jesus, Hermione, you're so predictable,"Ron said with a grin.  
  
Hermione shot him a look.  
  
"But I really don't find a reason to,"Harry said. "I mean, it was just a strange dream. It wasn't scary, and it didn't seem to have anything to do with Voldemort-"  
  
"Can you please not say the name?" Ron asked miserably.  
  
"With Voldemort,"Harry continued pointedly,"or whatever. It just felt out of place. Like I shouldn't've been having the dream."  
  
"Exactly,"said Hermione."Don't you see the situation at hand, Harry? Anything strange, anything unusual, should be taken very seriously. I hope to God you've had the sense to tell Sirius."  
  
Harry looked away embarassed.  
  
"Oh, God, Harry, don't even tell me! You haven't even told Sirius? What have you been thinking?" Hermione shook her head in clear disapproval.  
  
Harry turned to Ron for some support, but to his surprise, Ron was nodding in agreement. "She's right, Harry, you know it. You should've at least told Sirius."  
  
"Fine, fine, fine, I'll tell Sirius,"he agreed reluctantly."But no one else! At least not now."  
  
"Well,at least we've knocked some sense into you,"came Hermione. And she proceeded to bicker with Ron over how unhealthy the chips he was eating were.  
  
Harry turned his attention to a window for what seemed like the zillionth time today. He also thought about how much things had changed, and haow some things never will.  
  
********************* Ooookay, so sue me, I still haven't really entered the plot, but cross your fingers because it's coming soon! Please give me some feedback on the Ron- Hermione thing( the obvious romantic focus), because you know I love to hear it! 


	3. Hogwarts Surprises

Disclaimer: I don't own any of 'em, so don't get the FBI on my case.  
  
The summer, however quickly, had actually passed quite nicely. Now Harry was sitting in the car with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and the twins on their way to King's Cross Station. The Weasleys had set a record by not forgetting anything, so it appeared they were actually going to be quite early.  
  
They all walked through the barrier on a second nature. They now only had to board the train. The clock struck quarter till, and Mrs. Weasley figured it would be best if she placed them on the train and headed back herself.  
  
"Now, all of you," she said, eyeing them, "be good. No trouble," she said with a specific glance at the twins, "no missing me too much," she said looking at Ginny fondly, "and be very, very careful." She looked last at the three friends with a very worried look. "Promise me." They knew her comment was directed at them.  
  
They all nodded and she hugged them and bid them farewell. They finally boarded the train. Ginny found Colin Creevey as well as Neville Longbottom and went to sit with them. Fred and George found Lee Jordan and went to sit with him. Now the threesome was left alone.  
  
They walked down the halls of the train and found an empty compartment. Hermione, however, appeared very worried for some reason or another.  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked. Now he looked worried.  
  
Instead of answering, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "You did write to Sirius, didn't you?"  
  
Harry nodded in reply.  
  
"When was that?" She seemed to be very deep in thought about something, but very alert at the same time.  
  
"About two weeks ago, I'd say."  
  
"Two weeks, eh? And still no reply." she muttered to herself for a few moments with a furrowed brow.  
  
"Hermione, are sure you're all right?" Ron asked again.  
  
"Oh! Oh, yes." And in a moment, she was her old self once more.  
  
"Whatever," came Ron's reply. "Weird as usual."  
  
"Ron!" She jabbed him in the elbow.  
  
"What?" He grinned.  
  
As Hermione buried her nose into one of her brand-new spell books (Mrs. Weasley had taken them all to Diagon Alley), Ron and Harry started to talk about school.  
  
"I'll make you a bet," Ron said. "By third week, Seamus and Lavender are making out."  
  
"That's no bet, I agree all the way," Harry said.  
  
"I think he's.well, you know. With Lavender, I mean."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised of she let him," Hermione suddenly said, looking up. She can be such a slut, Lavender."  
  
"Looking forward to seeing those roommates, aren't you, Hermione?" Harry said.  
  
"Oh, you've no idea," she replied haughtily, and returned to her book as though the matter was officially closed.  
  
"I'll tell you one person I'm not looking forward to seeing," Ron said. "Malfoy."  
  
Almost as if on cue, Malfoy threw open the compartment door with his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, at his side. "Well, lookee here," he drawled.  
  
"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry gave his almost automatic answer.  
  
"Why, Potter, what do you think of me?" he said with an obviously false look of hurt. "Surely two friends as close as you and I don't need a reason to visit." His look transferred to a malicious grin.  
  
"Oh, get over yourself, won't you?" Hermione had snapped her book shut and was now standing with the others.  
  
"Shut up, bitch," Malfoy snapped.  
  
Ron looked just about ready to pounce, but Harry held him back. "I swear Malfoy," Harry muttered, "one more word."  
  
But Malfoy wasn't paying attention. He was focused on Ron. "What Weasley? Defending the poor little Mudblood whore? Don't you see that even if you want her, you're so poor you could never afford her prices?"  
  
Now Harry was forced to physically restrain Ron, and this was hard as Ron was several inches taller than he. "Malfoy, shut the hell up or I'll hex you." Harry tried to be as calm as possible while imposing the threat.  
  
"Oh, Potter, Potter, Potter.tsk, tsk, tsk," Malfoy shook his head in mock disappointment. "You think just because you somehow managed to escape the wrath of the Dark Lord you know everything. Well, think again." Malfoy leaned in to whisper, "Because he's back. And he's out to get all of you."  
  
It was hard to tell what happened first. Perhaps it was Hermione, who hit Malfoy with a spell so hard that he was thrown backwards out of the compartment. Then Ron must've tackled Malfoy to the floor, Harry managing to pull him off fast enough to lean in himself and say, " Don't you ever fucking do that again." He slammed the door , infuriated.  
  
Hermione was astounded. "Harry. I've never seen you say things like that before!"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't normally like to curse.unlike some people." His eyes traveled to Ron, whose fists were still clenched and was facing the door with a maddened expression.  
  
"If I ever get my hands on him." Ron muttered.  
  
Hermione, who was sitting next to him, put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. You know Malfoy. He's just." Unable to find a word, she shook her head. Harry noticed her hand did not leave Ron.  
  
The rest of the trip went without interruption. The feast at the Great Hall was delicious, as always, and afterward, Harry and his friends retreated to the Gryffindor Common Room. They sat down for a brief moment, and finally Hermione broke the silence.  
  
"You're sure you don't want to tell Dumbledore about the dream?"  
  
"Yes," Harry said, impatience starting to take over. Luckily, she dropped it there.  
  
"I have to go to bed," she said. She quickly kissed Harry on the cheek (he had by now gotten used to it, and no longer turned pink in the process). Then she went to kiss Ron, and Harry noticed it took just a moment longer. Ron blushed a furious shade of red to match his hair, and Hermione called goodnight from up the stairwell.  
  
Finally, Harry knew he had to ask. It had been bugging him for weeks, and he was honestly sick of it.  
  
"Ron, do you like Hermione?"  
  
He saw Ron give him a blank look and swallow before screwing up his face. "No! Ew! Gross! She's Hermione! Our best friend Hermione! Are you kidding me?"  
  
"Good," Harry said, "because I thought that-"  
  
"Well, I don't," Ron said quite huffily.  
  
Against his better judgment, Harry decided to believe him.  
  
`The first few weeks at Hogwarts went by very quickly. Potions was as usual a nightmare, and Ron and Harry continued to test their creativity in their Divination predictions. With last year's Professor Moody officially retired, Dumbledore had been forced to find a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. However, something had happened because the teacher wasn't quite here yet, so they all got that off as a free period. Hermione, however, kept them plenty worried, what with her tension about this year's O.W.L.s and all. She was doing as much studying as humanly possible, and never wasted a minute's time to try to get Harry and Ron to do the same.  
  
"I don't understand how missing one game of Exploding Snap to review some Charms would kill you!" she cried.  
  
It was late in the afternoon, and the trio was loafing around the Gryffindor Common Room. As it turned out, Ron and Harry were not playing Exploding Snap, but wizard's chess, while Hermione's nose was caught in a book. Harry wondered why he even bothered playing anymore; Ron always won.  
  
"Oh, calm down, Hermione!" Ron said with a nonchalant wave of the hand. "The O.W.Ls are months off. Months. We've got plenty of time."  
  
"Yes, you'll say that now, but don't come to me when you two are stuck cramming the night before!"  
  
Just then, Harry heard the door of the portrait hole opening and closing again. Neville Longbottom followed by the twins walked into the Common Room, all with excited looks on their faces.  
  
"Guess what?" Fred asked, headed straight for the three.  
  
"What?" Harry and Ron asked both instantly and simultaneously. Hermione did not even look up from her book.until Fred said the next line.  
  
"We've seen the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"  
  
Suddenly Hermione was hit with a list of questions. "Have you had a class with him yet? Is he good? Is he tough? Is he horrid? What can I do to pass his class, d'you think?"  
  
The twins chuckled, and George said, "Before you continue, you should know: it's not a 'he'. It's a 'she'."  
  
Just as Harry's jaw was starting to droop, George said, "And Good Lord, is she hot!"  
  
On first instinct, Ron said, "What does she look like?"  
  
Harry noticed Hermione's brow furrow and eyes glare, but luckily the twins didn't notice. Fred just said, "You'll see soon."  
  
Suddenly Neville, who looked like he was going to explode any minute yelled, "And she's an American!"  
  
Hermione let out a more than audible gasp, and Harry's jaw was really dropping now.  
  
"How do you know?" Ron asked.  
  
"Overheard her talking to Dumbledore in the hall. Seems her name is Ms. Harper," said George.  
  
"At least she's single," Fred remarked, grinning devilishly. The twins and Neville walked off, leaving behind three shocked fifth-years.  
  
"America," Hermione said under her breath. She ran a hand through her hair, obviously shocked. "But why doesn't she teach at an American school?"  
  
"Because there are none, all right?" was Ron's automatic response to shut her up.  
  
Hermione seemed oblivious to his annoyed state. "But there must be. I know I've read about one somewhere." Without answering, she began to gather her things, then left.  
  
"Library," Harry and Ron said together. It was no surprise.  
  
"I wonder what the new teacher looks like." Ron said dreamily into space.  
  
Harry thought for just a moment. A new teacher from America? Well this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was bound to be interesting. Then again, they always were.  
  
So the plot thickens.well, formulates really , but you know. I promise, this is only the beginning. Hold onto your hats, because something big is coming up. Remember, I want to hear what you have to say. 


	4. Harps: The Tools of Angels or Devils?

Disclaimer: I own no one except Ms. Harper  
  
Breakfast the next morning was chaos. Word had gotten around about the new teacher, and everyone was on the lookout. However, no one seemed to be able to find her. But the elusive Ms. Harper wasn't the only one; both Harry and Ron hadn't seen Hermione since the previous night.  
  
"Where is Hermione?" Ron asked for the third time that morning.  
  
"Ron," Harry said, "relax. I'm sure she'll be here soon."  
  
"Yeah, Ron," the twins snickered. "Don't worry."  
  
Harry saw Ron go the deepest shade of red that he had ever seen. Luckily, all of it stopped because Hermione chose that exact moment to enter the Great Hall.  
  
"How'd your search go?" Harry asked with a need (for Ron's benefit) to remove the twins' plastered grins.  
  
"Nothing!" she cried furiously. "I found nothing! But I know I've read about an American school somewhere or the other!"  
  
"Look," Ron said, munching on his breakfast, "instead of getting all worked up about it, why not just ask her yourself? We have her right after breakfast, you know."  
  
Hermione nodded, and turned red from the embarrassment of not having thought of that first.  
  
Harry, who couldn't think of anything to say, decided to enjoy breakfast while he still could.  
  
The Gryffindors filed quietly into their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Their new teacher had yet to arrive, so there were near silent whispers concerning her.  
  
"I'm personally glad she's a woman," Hermione said. "Women can teach this subject just as well as men."  
  
"Well, I'm glad she's a woman too," Ron replied. "But for an entirely different reason." He winked at Harry, and both boys shared a devilish grin.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys," she said.  
  
An immediate hush fell over the room as a woman appeared in the doorway of the room. Harry could at once tell what Fred and George had been talking about when they said she was hot. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and she was pretty tall. Even though she was wearing the traditional black robes, they seemed to accent her perfect figure. Her skin was a pale mocha color, and she had dark chocolaty brown eyes. Her hair was soft and smooth, and seemed to match her eyes almost exactly. Her eyes and hair reminded Ron of Hermione's, and he immediately shook himself of any such thought.  
  
"Good morning, class," she said in a low voice without any trace of an accent. American, Harry knew at once. Definitely American.  
  
"Good morning," they replied softly.  
  
"Well, since I don't know any of your names, and I figure I should, attendance seems like a good idea to me." She sat down at the desk in the front of the room and began to call out names in alphabetical order. When she reached Hermione's name, Ms. Harper turned to look at the girl, and Harry saw a trace of an amused and knowing smile playing her lips.  
  
Then the moment Harry dreaded with every new teacher. "Harry Potter," she said softly, and took a moment to really look at him before moving on.  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn't made a big deal out of it like some teachers had.  
  
But what really shocked Harry was that Ms. Harper did the same thing when she rolled around to Ron's name (last as usual.). She looked at him and pronounced it in the same slow fashion as she had Harry's. Not that Ron wasn't special or whatever, it's just that he wondered why she did that when Ron wasn't exactly famous. This perplexed Ron as well. It was like she knew something about them all- something she wasn't telling them.  
  
"Well, okay, Gryffindors," Ms. Harper said, standing up. "I think I should probably tell you about the class I'll be teaching, as you will play a major part in it. A lot of people think that defending yourself against the dark arts is knowing a couple of good spells. I happen to be one of those weirdos who think otherwise. I happen to be one of those people who think that you've gotta know what's right and what's wrong, then there's no point. You need to have the inner strength to do it. Now is especially the time to know this as some of you," she turned to the three best friends in front, "already know. I want to show you that there is magic beyond the wand, and you are going to learn how to use it."  
  
Hermione paused from her rapid note-taking to raise her hand. Ms. Harper motioned with her eyes for Hermione to speak and she asked, "Do you mean wandless magic? I didn't think we were to learn that till much, much later."  
  
The amused look set itself on Ms. Harper's face again. "You'd be right about both, Granger. Yeah, we're doing wandless magic, and no, you're not supposed to do that until a while from now. However, due to sudden and extreme circumstances, you headmaster feels it necessary. But I promise, Granger, I know what I'm doing."  
  
Then she went on to write and talk about the basic (yet most complicated rules) Harry had ever seen in his life. By the time he walked out, Harry was silently cursing his writer's cramp.  
  
"I like her," said Hermione chirpily. "She seems like a very good teacher."  
  
"She seems pretty good, but all this wandless magic stuff sounds like a whole lot of work," said Harry.  
  
"Yes, but it should be fun."  
  
"No it won't!" Ron cried out in protest. "We've already got too much to study for! What about the O.W.L.s ? You're always talking about them."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes again. It wasn't until she was safely in Transfiguration that she realized she never asked Ms. Harper about magic schools in America.  
  
Okay, I know this chapter was so incredibly short, but I'll be sure to make up for it. I've got plenty planned for Ms. Harper. In the next chapter, there is going to be an excellent start of the plot! Please Review!!!!!! 


	5. A Strange Twist

Disclaimer: I own no one except the old man.  
  
The first week of October meant a lot to everyone. To some, it meant the start of a whole new month, filled with brand new opportunities. To some , (mostly those like Hermione) it meant less study time than before for O.W.L preparation. To Harry and Ron (as well as many other boys in the third year and up) it meant the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year.  
  
"Excellent!" Ron cheered when they'd gotten the news from McGonagall. "I've been hearing lately that Honeydukes has a whole new line of brand name sweets!" Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Ron's excitement. Hermione, however, wanted to make use of the extra study time and had decided to stay back.  
  
Until breakfast that morning.  
  
When the owls began to flutter in, Harry saw his Hedwig for the first time in over a month. He knew at once she must be carrying Sirius's long awaited reply. Indeed, she dropped a rolled up piece of parchment in front of Harry's breakfast.  
  
He was just about to unroll it when Hermione said, "No. We'll open it in the Three Broomsticks. We'll have more privacy to talk there."  
  
Ron grinned. "So I guess this means you're coming with us, then?"  
  
"Yes, yes, of course," was her immediate reply, but she quickly regained her usual bossy tone. "But only because I want to see what Sirius has to say about this whole thing."  
  
She wasn't the only one.  
  
"Can we go already?" Harry asked for what seemed to be the millionth time that hour.  
  
The three were standing in Honeydukes, a sweetshop in the middle of the only all-magic village Hogsmeade, and the place was jam-packed. Ron had been staring at the new line of sweets, and they had been standing in the same line (waiting for Ron's things to be finished ringing up) for quite some time now.  
  
"Yes, really, Ron," Hermione said with an impatient glance at her watch. "We should be going if we want to get a good look at that letter."  
  
"Fine, fine, fine," Ron said, gathering the last of his bags. "I'm coming already, we can go now."  
  
The three walked out into the fairly chilly weather toward the Three Broomsticks, a kind of pub that did not just serve alcoholic drinks. Their specialty was butterbeer, a kind of warming, fizzy drink. But all three knew that they had not come there for drinks today.  
  
The friends were led to a table by the beautiful Madame Rosmerta. As soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione said, "Open the letter, Harry."  
  
She didn't need to tell him. Harry read the letter aloud to his friends in a quiet voice. It read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
It's good to hear from you again. However, by the time you get this reply, you are probably going to be a good way into school.  
  
I have been thinking about this dream you had, and it strikes me as quite odd. I don't find anything too morbid or even ominous about it, but it certainly does feel out of place. The message the old man gave you to be open and not to expect must mean something or the other.  
  
I'm trying to figure things out a little more over here, but the most I can tell you is to keep your eyes and ears open. Write to me if you find anything odd. I will get back to you as soon as possible.  
  
Sirius  
  
"I knew it!" Ron cried triumphantly. "I knew that part must've meant something!"  
  
"Just because Sirius says so doesn't mean it's right," said Hermione. "I personally have a hunch about the whole dream."  
  
"Yeah, me too.." Harry said absently.  
  
"So, then what do we do?" asked Ron.  
  
"Well, since it's just a dream," Hermione said, "and Sirius doesn't see any immediate danger, I think we just keep a lookout. If Sirius isn't worrying I don't see any reason why we should." She took a pause. "Oh!" she said. "There's something else." Her face had been kept completely straight but there was a smile in her eyes.  
  
"What?" Ron asked immediately.  
  
"You have to promise not to kill me first." Now the grin was on her lips, but there was slight worry in her voice.  
  
"I promise okay? Just tell me."  
  
Hermione looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Well, all right. Colin Creevey and Ginny are a couple!" She couldn't help but let her teenage girl side take over for a minute and let a giggle escape.  
  
"What?!" Ron's jaw dropped. "NO!"  
  
"You're kidding," Harry said. Colin Creevey was a Muggle born, a year younger than Harry, and had always been slightly.obsessive about the whole "Boy Who Lived" bit. It would certainly be nice to have him preoccupied for a while.  
  
"No, I'm not!" she said.  
  
"How do you know?" Ron said, trying not to let his anger get the best of him.  
  
"Well," she began and giggled again, "I was coming back fairly late from a study session at the library, and when I walked into the Common Room, Ginny and Colin were holding hands! And he kissed her goodnight! And.."  
  
"What?!" Ron said again. He clenched his fists.  
  
"Ron, you promised not to kill me," Hermione reminded him.  
  
Ron was oblivious to her voice. "He did what to my sister? WHAT?"  
  
"Ron," Hermione started slowly, knowing about Ron's overprotective tendencies when it came to Ginny. "Ron, he really didn't do anything to her. He just kissed her goodnight. And honestly, they look so cute together!"  
  
"You're taking his side?" Ron was nearly yelling now.  
  
"Nooo.," she said, "but I do think that."  
  
  
  
"I can't believe you're doing this!" he yelled. "No way!"  
  
"You promised not to be mad!" Hermione had given up on patience and was starting to match Ron's tone.  
  
Ron realized this and sat back down. He was, however, still brooding, until Harry decided to do something.  
  
"Zonko's, anyone?" He asked timidly. "Before it gets too late, I mean."  
  
Hermione raised her eyes hopefully at Ron. He nodded, eyes narrowed straight in front, and they left.  
  
They walked out into the cold once more, Ron muttering to himself with Hermione staring at the ground. She seemed a little quiet after the episode inside, and had pretty much given up talking altogether.  
  
Harry, on the other hand, was thinking to himself. Ron and Hermione had definitely begun to act strange this year. They were bickering far more than usual, and sometimes over the pettiest things (such as what breakfast cereal Ron eats). And then there were the times that Ron blushed when Hermione was brought up, or how Hermione had touched his shoulder and not let go on the train. Harry knew he had asked Ron, but he was wondering if he should still believe him or-  
  
Something drew Harry from his reverie. The trio had bumped right into an old man (a result of watching the floor when walking through town). The man was a good several inches taller than even Ron, and was very, very thin. He was pretty much bald on top, except for a few patches of white snowy hair. He wore what seemed to be a Muggle suit, and all of a sudden Harry's eyes grew very wide. He had seen this man before.  
  
It was the man from his dream.  
  
"Well, hello there," the man said politely.  
  
"Sorry sir," Harry and Hermione muttered together.  
  
"It's all right, Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger," he said as though he was one of their professors.  
  
Ron's mouth hung in a perfect "o". How did he know their names?  
  
"And Mr. Weasley, of course!" the man said. "How could I forget?"  
  
The three would normally have walked away, but the situation seemed to be quite nerve-racking, and held them in their places.  
  
"Well, Harry," he said with a meaningful glance at him, "I have a present for the three of you, but I'm going to hand it to you. Is that all right?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
The man pulled out a single, manilla envelope. On the cover were Harry's, Hermione's, and Ron's name written out in black cursive. "Now, remember to be open. And never, ever expect anything." The man winked at the three, and Apparated right there.  
  
The three turned to face each other. They were all wide eyed, but they knew that this was the man from Harry's dream, and things had suddenly gotten very strange.  
  
The three sat in the Common Room late that night. Harry still had the envelope in front of him, as none of them were sure whether to open it or not. They were talking about what to do for the moment, but none of them had much of an idea.  
  
"Harry," Hermione said, "you promised you would tell Dumbledore if anything more happened."  
  
"Look, Hermione, no way!" he protested. "I'll write to Sirius, but please. If Dumbledore finds out, the whole school will know. Then everything will be just like last year. Do you want that?"  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow. She hadn't thought of that. "No, I don't, but still."  
  
"Look, I will tell him if whatever's inside is anything serious."  
  
"It could be a hex, though," Ron said thoughtfully.  
  
"He's right," Hermione muttered. "But there's only one way to find out." She picked up the envelope, surprised at its slightly heavy weight. She tore open the envelope, and out fell a little sliver key.  
  
"That's no hex!" Harry said, relieved.  
  
"Yes, but it could be hexed." Hermione said softly. She turned the key round and about, examining every last inch of it, until finally she said, "Nothing to worry about. It's just a key."  
  
"How do you know?" Ron asked suspiciously. He checked the room in case Colin walked in. Ron, despite Hermione's an Harry's pleas for peace, had still vowed to do some harm to Colin.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione said with a smile. "About two years ago, my father bought a lock and key from a magic shop. See, he wanted a lock and key kind of bewitched thing, so no one else could pick the lock. Only, instead of going to Diagon Alley, he wound up in Knockturn Alley. The key turned out to have a hex on it, and we had to call over this wizard keysmith. But anyway, this man told me how to spot out a hexed key. If it's gold, it'll have a spot of silver somewhere on it, and vice versa for silver keys. I knew that it would come in handy sometime." She grinned.  
  
"Okay, so we have a key," Harry said. "Just a plain old key, with nothing really special about it. But it apparently means something. What?"  
  
"I expect it should fit some kind of a lock, and judging by the look of the key, it's going to be a pretty old lock."  
  
"So we just find the lock that the key'll fit into," Ron said. "It can't be that hard."  
  
"Yes, but this is a Muggle key," Hermione continued. "And the old kinds are very different from the new ones. They were categorized into different types. So we'll have to look up a book on old Muggle keys. There'll definitely be something in the library."  
  
"Restricted Section?" Harry asked.  
  
"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione said. "Lock studies are only done by seventh years in Muggle Studies class."  
  
"How do we get in, though?" Harry mused. "None of us even take Muggle Studies."  
  
"Why didn't you stick with it?" Ron said, looking at Hermione.  
  
Hermione glared. "We'll have to sneak in using the cloak at night." She looked to Harry. "When?"  
  
"Wednesday night," said Ron.  
  
"Fine, then Wednesday it is."  
  
"And I suppose I should write to Sirius in the meanwhile?" Harry said, glancing at Hermione.  
  
"At once," came her serious reply.  
  
They bid one another goodnight, and as Harry walked up the stairs, Harry could sense that this year was going to be another long one. Okay, everybody cheer! The plot is here! Well, this is only part of it, really, and wait till you see what I've got in store! I am sooo excited, and I really want to hear what everyone has to say about this!!!!!!!! 


	6. A Visit To The Library

Disclaimer: They aren't mine.  
  
Harry sat down in the Great Hall for lunch. He was exhausted (as well as starving) from Double Potions that morning. Hermione and Ron seemed to agree.  
  
"I hate that man," Hermione said through gritted teeth.  
  
"This coming from the girl who once said, and I quote," Harry paused briefly to clear his throat, "'We should never ever speak badly of our professors.'"  
  
Hermione went red, "Stop," she muttered.  
  
Ron and Harry shared a laugh as they noticed Fred Weasley walking over to them.  
  
"Hey," Fred said. He got to the point quickly, turning and looking straight at Harry. "There are going to have three Quidditch team meetings this week. You know, deciding on the new captain, getting in some early practice, yada yada. The old drill. But we all need to be there."  
  
"Cool," Harry said, starting to shift his attention back to lunch. Suddenly, he turned back around to ask, "When?"  
  
"Well, what day is today? Tuesday?"  
  
"No," Harry shook his head. "Wednesday." He shot a meaningful look at Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Oh! Tonight then. Seven to nine." Fred grinned.  
  
"But I thought we weren't allowed to practice after dark!" Harry said, obvious panick on his voice.  
  
"Just this week. Hufflepuff's booked the same schedule. But don't be scared," Fred said with a wicked grin. "Madame Hooch will be overseeing."  
  
"All right." Harry swallowed nervously.  
  
"See you then, old sport." Fred gave a military salute as goodbye and walked off.  
  
As soon as Fred was out of earshot, Hermione wasted no time in saying, "Harry!"  
  
"We have to go to the library tonight!" Ron said.  
  
Hermione gave him a look that simply said, Duh. "As if that wasn't the most obvious thing in the world." She rolled her eyes.  
  
"I know!" Harry hissed. "I know," he said, calming himself. "But I have to go to these practices. It's my duty." He paused and thought. "Can't we do it this weekend?"  
  
"And waste valuable study time?!?!" Hermione said, shocked. "Besides, I can't. I'm tutoring Neville in Potions both afternoons."  
  
"Like that's going to be any help," Ron said with a scowl.  
  
Harry sighed. He wondered why he was doing this, but. "I guess you two'll have to go without me, then."  
  
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. It was going to be one of those kinds of days.  
  
It was shortly after dinner that Harry went to Quidditch practice, and Ron and Hermione were left retreating quickly to the Common Room.  
  
"What are we going to do without the invisibility cloak?" Hermione questioned through the pair's fast pace.  
  
"Relax," Ron said nonchalantly. "I know where it is. Snorglebat." He gave the password and the portrait of the fat lady swung open to the Gryffindor Common Room. He walked in, Hermione close behind, and was glad to see it was still empty. He began to walk up the stairs to the boys' dorm when he noticed Hermione's footsteps were no longer present behind his. He turned to look at her. "What?"  
  
"Ron," she said impatiently. "You know I'm not allowed in the boys' dorm!"  
  
"What?" he said again with a grin. "No one's around. And it's not like you're breaking a law or whatever."  
  
"Ron it's a school rule." She said school rule with a specific emphasis, as though it was worse than breaking a law.  
  
"Oh calm down, don't be scared. I bet you the girls' dorms are exactly the same. Come on." He motioned with his hand for her to follow.  
  
She gave a groan of impatience and quickly climbed up the stairs. "I still don't see why I have to do this." she muttered.  
  
She followed Ron through the doorway apprehensively, but at once saw that he was right. It was exactly like the girls' dorm, with the small exception that it was a lot messier. Oh yes, and the Quidditch and soccer posters surrounding the walls. She couldn't help but feel a shudder of nervousness about the fact she was standing in the room where Ron slept, but shrugged it off as quickly as possible.  
  
Ron, meanwhile, had taken the liberty to open the trunk at the foot of Harry's bed and was going through the items inside like he had done it every day. "Hey, look, Hermione," he said, holding some sort of box up. "He still hasn't eaten the Chocolate Frogs Hagrid sent for his birthday. You know if it were me, they would've been."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione said. "We don't have all day you know."  
  
"Fine, fine," he said, going back to the trunk immediately. "Don't worry, though, I know exactly where he keeps it. It should be right." Ron's voice faded away slowly as he swallowed nervously. "Here." It was a faint end to a sentence, especially for one that had started out so confidently. This, of course, made Hermione panicky.  
  
"What?" she asked, her voice higher than usual. "What is it?"  
  
"The cloak," Ron said softly. "The cloak isn't here."  
  
"What do you mean it's not here?" Hermione said shrilly. "I thought you knew exactly where he kept it!"  
  
"I did, he's kept it in the same spot for the past four years!" Ron said matching her tone. "Only now it isn't here!"  
  
Hermione lowered her voice, realizing that she would be in big trouble if they were to scream and be found out. "Okay, so now what do we do?"  
  
Ron thought for a moment. "Don't you know any spells that can make you invisible?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "We could've saved years of trouble if I knew that one."  
  
Ron inhaled slowly, knowing there was only one option left. "We'll have to try to sneak into the library without it."  
  
"And just how are we going to manage that stunt?"  
  
"There are plenty of dark corridors. Anytime we hear something, just duck in there."  
  
Hermione knew it was a risk, but she also knew that they had to find out exactly what was going on with that key. For all of their safety. She nodded carefully.  
  
The two crept down the stairs so that they were not noticed, and left the Common Room without any disruption or notice. They kept up a fast but quiet pace in the hall. Suddenly Ron broke their tensed silence.  
  
"So what are we looking for again?"  
  
"Ummm." It was obvious Hermione wasn't thinking. "Locks," she replied regaining her senses. "A book on old Muggle locks."  
  
"I see," he answered. He was tempted to ask, "How are you, Hermione?" but he didn't. He didn't even know what was going on anymore. Lately.lately it seemed like things were different, somehow. Hermione seemed different too, but in a way he'd never imagined she could be. He knew he was seeing Hermione in a way he never had before, as well. It wasn't the way he saw girls like Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil. Hermione wasn't like them. She was smarter than all of them put together, she was ever ambitious, and just so incredibly beautiful.  
  
Wait. Had he just said that? About Hermione Granger? Had he really just said that Hermione was beautiful? No, no, that couldn't have been. Just a little slip of the mind was all. Just a little slip. Ron literally shook his head to remove the thought.  
  
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, a genuine look of concern crossing her face.  
  
"Yes, fine," he muttered. He suddenly wished the invisibility cloak had been there, just so that he could spend a few minutes under it with her. Suddenly, Ron jerked his head up in surprise. Footsteps? Yes, and they were getting closer. He spotted a dark corridor, and grabbed Hermione by the elbow to pull them both inside of it.  
  
The corridor was much smaller than Ron had thought it would be, but he supposed it was a good things since too much light was not let inside. Ron stayed close to the wall, and soon enough, Filch, the school's caretaker, came around to eye everything in sight.  
  
Hermione, however, was not paying attention to Filch. She had all of a sudden realized what close quarters she and Ron were in. They were facing one another and were barely centimeters apart. She could hear him breathing. Were his breaths as nervous as hers seemed to be? Was she acting stupid? She couldn't help but to slightly inhale his scent through her shallow breaths, and at once told herself to stop acting like such a teenage girl. But why was her heart beating so fast? And, more to the point, was Ron's as well? Suddenly, a hand on hers knocked her out of her reverie. A million shocks washed over her like waves on the sea. She looked up to see a smiling Ron.  
  
"Filch is gone. We can go now." He took her hand and pulled her out of the little corridor, glad to be outside the tiny space.  
  
"Well, that's the first plan of yours that's ever worked," she said with a grin.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron said in mock defense. "Don't you remember the live chess game in our first year? Who led us through that?"  
  
"You did," she said with a laugh. How could she forget?  
  
They found the library without any more trouble from Filch or his cat Mrs. Norris. No one was inside, but it turned out the place was locked. Hermione was the first to pull out her wand. "Alohomora," she said under her breath. The lock instantly opened. She pushed open the door.  
  
"Hermione's famous spell," Ron said with a half smile.  
  
"Shhhh," she said. They crept past rows and rows of regular books before finding the restricted section. Without a second glance at Ron, Hermione pushed open the tiny gate. Now the two were among some of the oldest and most horrible books in history.  
  
"Locks, locks," Hermione muttered. The shelves were very, very tall, reaching quite above Ron's head. She could not see all of the books, but she could see Ron looking as well.  
  
"Muggle Studies: Muggle Locks!" he exclaimed. "I've found it!"  
  
"Where?" Hermione asked excitedly.  
  
Ron pointed to a shelf that was quite high above his own head. "I was leaning back to read all the names of books up there," he said.  
  
"But how do we get the book down?" Hermione muttered. She was quite sure that Ron would not be able to reach the book, even from his height. But she knew that she might be able to with a ladder. "Ron, see if there's a ladder anywhere around here."  
  
They checked the whole library for its battered up ladder but it was not to be found. "Where could it have gone?" Ron said, scratching his head.  
  
"More to the point, how do we get the book down now?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ron turned to look at her. "Well," he said embarrassedly, "I could always lift you." He turned fairly red, which was obvious even in the low light of the lantern they were carrying.  
  
"Well." Hermione said apprehensively, "Well, all right."  
  
"Come here," Ron said. He stood behind her, and placed his arms around her waist. Jesus, he thought. He lifted her slightly, mildly surprised at her lightness. Once she was a good distance up, he moved his hands down to her lower hips, realizing there was no other choice than this uncomfortable position.  
  
But it was really not so bad.  
  
Hermione felt a bit unsteady in someone else's hands, but seemed to feel very safe. She wondered if she would feel the same safety if it was Harry, but tried not to think of that. Instead of reveling in the fact that Ron was touching her, she did her best to turn her attention to finding the book. "Was it this one Ron?" she asked, her voice cracking just a bit.  
  
"Is it green?" he said with the same nervous crack in his voice.  
  
"Yeah," was her almost instant reply. She grabbed the book and said, "Okay, I've got it."  
  
Ron slowly put her down, very carefully, almost as though she were a china doll. He found his hands around her waist again, and took a moment to remove them once more. The two did not look at each other as Hermione stepped away.  
  
"D'you think we should look at it now, or wait until Harry gets back?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ron couldn't help but think of how it was so like her, to be thinking of everyone else on the planet. "Wait for Harry," Ron said with a short nod of his head. "After all, he has just as much right to know."  
  
They left the library with a quick repair of the lock, and Ron was breathing slowly and deeply to recover from.from whatever had happened there. He hoped the Common Room would be empty, as he really didn't want to deal with anyone at this moment.  
  
It was just his luck.  
  
"I don't understand why Harry's not back yet," Hermione said, her brow furrowed. "It's already nine-thirty."  
  
"Well," Ron started, "we may as well get a peak at the book now. I mean, the sooner we start the work the sooner it'll be done." They sat down at a corner sofa together, keeping a reasonable distance from one another. Ron swallowed. "I.I think we should probably open the book now," he suggested.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione seemed to suddenly snap back to attention. "Yes, yes, of course." She absently flipped to page 23. "So.locks." She wasn't paying any attention whatsoever. "Locks are." She seemed to suddenly realize her strange behavior, and at once went back to being Hermione. She sat up straighter, and began to read aloud about locks, starting from page one.  
  
"This is boring," Ron said after a brief three minutes.  
  
"I know, isn't it?" She giggled and turned in to face him. "I can't believe we're reading about locks."  
  
Suddenly they were a lot closer together, and Ron tried to hide the strain in his voice. "I thought you liked to know everything about everything." He gave her the most mischevious grin he could muster.  
  
She shot him a teasing glare. "No, you know I don't. It's just crazy. You know, in the Muggle world, nobody really cares about locks. It's just funny that wizards would find such boring things so interesting."  
  
"So speaks a Muggle-born," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "But I do see your point."  
  
"I knew you would," she said. And suddenly, they were both uncomfortable again.  
  
It seemed to be the theme of the night.  
  
Later that night, Hermione was awake in her bed, trying to ignore the snores of Parvati next to her. She wasn't up thinking about locks, like she might've been two years ago. Now she was thinking about the trip to the library itself.  
  
Had all of it really happened? It had been so weird, so uncomfortable. But all so wonderful at the same time. And she knew that she wasn't the only one. She had heard Ron speak funnily twice that night. Was she crowding him? No, that was nonsense. They were best friends, they had been crowding one another since they were eleven. Maybe Ron was having a tough time with something else.  
  
She wished he would talk to her about it. Maybe she would be able to help. But deep down, she knew it wasn't something else. It was something to do with both of them, something she had never faced before, and something she didn't want to come close to admitting.  
  
Meanwhile, Ron was awake as well. He could still feel Hermione's waist in his hands, and he longed to touch her again. But why was he thinking like this? Was he insane? Maybe he should go to visit Madame Pomfrey. No, that was a Hermione thing to think.  
  
Hermione. And the cycle began again.  
  
They both knew one thing. Tomorrow their focus was going to be on one thing and one thing only: locks.  
  
So, my very first romantic chapter. How do you like? But don't worry, I have plenty in store for these two, just you wait and see. For all you plot- lovers out there, I promise the next chapter will have more of that. For now, I WANT REVIEWS!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	7. Teleportation, Tickling, and Twins

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody except Ms. Harper  
  
The next morning things went quite normally, without any uncomfortable moments between Ron and Hermione. Ron willingly followed Hermione's lead of pretending nothing happened, although nothing really had happened.  
  
Ron found himself wishing something had.  
  
Hermione, on the other hand, behaved as her usual self, only slightly more chipper than usual. As soon as Harry and Ron came down for breakfast (late as usual) she seemed to be quite bright and energized.  
  
"Hello, Harry! Hello Ron!" she exclaimed as they sat down.  
  
"Well, someone certainly seems bright this morning," Ron said groggily.  
  
"Don't blame me if you're not, I told you to get to bed early," she said in her bossy voice.  
  
Ron glared at her. Here we go, Harry thought to himself. He decided to change the topic before an argument broke out.  
  
"So, you guys went last night, didn't you?" he asked in a mildly rushed voice. He glanced quickly at Ron, who, to Harry's slight surprise, was tinging a light red.  
  
"Yeah, we went." Hermione seemed to be as usual, however.  
  
Harry chose to ignore Ron's strange behavior. "Well, what did you find?" He had more important things to worry about, anyhow.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione said, and at once she delved into her beige satchel. She retrieved a dark green book entitled Muggle Studies: Muggle Locks. "Here it is."  
  
Harry looked at it, taking the book into his hands. "So, it's not bewitched, but." He placed the book down and looked at Hermione. "How do we know if it says anything about old locks?"  
  
"Oh, well." Was it just Harry or was Hermione's voice dropping a slight notch? However, realizing this, she quickly returned to her normal tone. "Ron and I went through it last night. There's a whole chapter on old locks. Maybe two."  
  
"Good. So when can we look at it?"  
  
"How about Saturday morning?" Ron asked with his mouth full.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you, Ron?" Hermione said in an exasperated voice. "I'm tutoring Neville!"  
  
"And we can't do a decent job without Hermione," Harry mused. Hermione blushed at this. "But we have to find out this week. If this key has anything to do with." Harry let his voice get lower "Voldemort, then I want to know now."  
  
"But you have Quidditch practice this week, don't you Harry?" Hermione asked, confused.  
  
Harry sighed. He wondered why he was doing this but. "I guess I'll leave it to you to then. You can do it together or just one of you. I'm not going to be around so it doesn't really matter." He stood up and shrugged.  
  
"Well-well, all right," Hermione said slowly. "Harry are you okay? You seem to be acting strange this morning."  
  
He was acting strange? Him? Well, wasn't that the irony of the year. He chose not to remark on this, however, and simply shook his head Yes. "Come on," he said. "We have Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning, and I don't want to miss a thing."  
  
"Today, class," Ms. Harper began, "we will be taking our first real lesson in wandless magic: teleportation."  
  
"Like Apparating?" Neville asked.  
  
Ms. Harper tilted her head. "Somewhat, because it is transportation. But Apparition is instant; teleportation takes a few minutes. It's best for those who don't have Apparating licenses. Apparating involves higher risk because it's instantaneous. Teleportation's risk is much lower. When you find yourself in a situation where you need to run quickly, you will want to teleport. It is a very important skill used by many wizards who don't have Apparating licenses." She paused. "I take it all of you have your basic wandless magic rules memorized and understood, because that is pretty much all you need for teleportation. It is the simplest form of wandless magic around. Now, of course there is a process." She smiled. "Oh, yes, one more thing. The only people who can teleport onto or within Hogwarts grounds are registered teachers and students. So you're all safe." She glanced at the famous trio.  
  
Harry copied down several complicated teleportation methods Ms. Harper wrote on the board, and knew right away he would not be able to do this. In addition to locating your own magical powers, there was a complicated process involved. When time got to actually teleporting (and to stop copying), all Harry wanted to know was whether teleportation could give you motion sickness or not. He decided to try method one first. He closed his eyes, focused completely (or at least tried to focus completely) on the spot he was in, and repeated the phrase "Lochna teleportania" over and over. He managed to get on top of his desk, rather than next to Neville's, which had been his goal.  
  
He was pleased to see, however, that he was not the only one struggling. Ron had not moved at all in the past ten minutes that the class had been trying. Neville managed somehow to split his body in half, and there were now two halves of Neville walking around. Hermione, though, had managed to teleport on her first try, and was now going left and right across the room. She kept insisting to Ron it was really quite easy.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
Harry decided to try method two. He closed his eyes, focused on the spot he was going to, and repeated "lochna teleportania" four times. Suddenly, everything around Harry was spinning quite fast, and he was off the floor, moving high above the ground. Now he could feel himself being split into billions of tiny particles, and he wondered if this was supposed to happen, but kept muttering the phrase. Billions of Harry particles zoomed across the room, and finally.he was on Neville's desk. He did it. He successfully teleported. And honestly, it wasn't that bad.  
  
He did it a few more times just to be sure.  
  
He teleported himself to Ron during the last twenty minutes of class they had. Hermione was standing there as well, and Ron kept saying the phrase, but nothing seemed to happen. He had only managed to move to the desk in front of his own.  
  
"At least you moved," Harry tried encouragingly.  
  
"Ron, it's really quite simple," Hermione persuaded. "Have you tried method two?"  
  
"I've tried every damn method!" he said furiously. "The only thing that actually got me to move was method two."  
  
"Well, then stick with that one."  
  
Ron tried again, and actually managed to jump three desks. By this time, however, class was over. Luckily, Ron was not the only one who was still confused, and Ms. Harper promised they would spend more class time on it next time.  
  
As the three were leaving, Ms. Harper noticed the book of locks under Hermione's arm.  
  
"Where'd you get it?" she asked, the amused look taking over her face once more.  
  
"Oh.the library," Hermione replied, looking very flustered.  
  
"All right. Well go on, you three." And she winked.  
  
The three left, and as soon as they were outside, Ron said, "I swear that woman knows something."  
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I think so too."  
  
"Gee, you all catch on fast," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Hasn't it been obvious since the first day we had her?"  
  
"Yes, but what could she know?" Ron asked.  
  
No one knew what to say.  
  
Later, after dinner, Harry went straight to Quidditch practice while Ron and Hermione took their time returning to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"We really need to investigate what is going on with that key, and I do mean seriously, Ron," Hermione said.  
  
Ron nodded. "I know."  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled. "As soon as we find out what kind of lock fits that key, then we just have to find the lock."  
  
"What do you mean the lock?" Ron asked.  
  
"I mean the specific lock in which the key fits," Hermione said slowly. "Does Harry have the key, or do you know where he keeps it?" She emphasized the latter and raised one eyebrow at him. "What was the story with that, anyhow?"  
  
"Oh, the cloak?" Ron questioned, and as Hermione nodded he gave a short laugh. "Harry does have it at school, like I said." He gave her a pointed look. "He just took it with him before dinner last night. He was going to give it to us, but he forgot. Snorglebat."  
  
This caused Hermione to look worried. "He seems to have a lot on his mind lately. Has he said anything?" She turned to face Ron as they entered the Common Room.  
  
"No." Ron said. "Maybe it's just the whole thing with the key. It's a really weird situation. Maybe he'll get back to normal once we figure this whole thing out."  
  
"Hmmm," she mused. "You're probably right. But he has been through a lot, you know."  
  
"Yeah, I do know." They sat down next to one another on a comfy sofa in the corner of the room.  
  
"Okay," Hermione said as she opened the book. "We're looking for an old lock. Ron, would you get the key? We need to be able to match it up with a drawing in the book."  
  
Ron started for the boys' dorm. "Want to come?" He gave her a devious grin.  
  
"No, thanks, I'd rather not." She returned his grin with an equally mischievous one.  
  
Ron ran up the stairs and returned a moment later holding the key within its envelope. He sat back down on the sofa, much closer, Hermione noticed, than he had been before. "Here," he said, laying it on the table.  
  
"Okay, good," she said. She was slightly breathless, and her heart had begun to beat just a bit faster. She tore open the book, turning once again to page 23. Then she pulled up the key, studying it.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ron asked. "Hermione, it looks like you're memorizing the dumb key."  
  
"No," she said, giving him a look. "I need to know exactly what it looks like so I can find its exact copy in the book." She turned back to the book, slowly flipping through its pages. "Here, look!" she exclaimed.  
  
Ron looked over her shoulder. He was so close Hermione swore she could feel his breath on her neck. She didn't want to admit it, but it felt good.  
  
On the page was a picture of the exact kind of key they had, and a picture of the sort of lock it went into. The year at the bottom read 1973.  
  
"These locks are old!" Ron said.  
  
"Yeah, I know." Hermione leaned back from the book. "That's just the thing. Where are we going to find a lock from all the way in 1973?"  
  
Ron thought for a second. "Maybe in Hogsmeade? That is where the man gave it to us, so maybe it means something."  
  
Hermione thought before nodding. "That must be it. Not only that, but everyone knows it's the only place Hogwarts students have access to. Unless it's somewhere in the school." She glanced at Ron.  
  
He shook his head. "I doubt that. The locks here are all brand new."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"Filch was muttering about it last night in the corridor."  
  
There was a brief, tensed silence after this statement. Neither spoke until Hermione chose to say, "So it's most probably Hogsmeade then?"  
  
"I'd say so," Ron agreed.  
  
"Let's see." she muttered. "The only place I can think of that would have locks that old would be the Shrieking Shack."  
  
"But doesn't Dumbledore replace it with new, magical locks every year?"  
  
"On the outside, yes. But the locks inside would still be quite old. Probably not changed since Remus Lupin's day. What year did he graduate, again?"  
  
"1973." Ron said slowly. Wow she was smart.  
  
"Exactly. So we have to go to the Shrieking Shack to find the lock."  
  
"But how do we get there? Wait till another Hogsmeade weekend?"  
  
"Don't be stupid, Ron, you know we can't get inside the Shrieking Shack from Hogsmeade. The locks are too powerful. Besides, we could get caught."  
  
"Fine then, we use the invisibility cloak."  
  
"Actually, that's not quite what I had in mind."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
She grinned. "If you'll agree to it, I daresay teleportation is the best method."  
  
Ron's eyes grew wide. "No," he protested. "No way. I can't even teleport across a room, let alone to Hogsmeade."  
  
"Oh, come on, Ron, it won't be so bad. It's a lot easier than getting out the cloak and under the Whomping Willow, you know the routine. It might even be fun," she wheedled.  
  
"You're pushing it," he warned. "And the answer is still no."  
  
She sighed exasperatedly. "Okay, so maybe I am, but I promise! Teleportation is really all right once you get used to it. Besides, if you really think you can't do it, well. I guess you just aren't good enough." Hermione had decided on reverse psychology, the only method she could think of.  
  
"What do you mean not good enough?" he asked infuriated.  
  
Hermione knew the plan was working, but she had to keep going. "Well, you know, I bet any one of your brothers can do it. And so can Harry." She knew she had hit a weak spot now.  
  
Ron's face turned red in his fury. "I can too! You just watch and see! I'll be right back." She watched as his eyes closed and heard him mutter the phrase under his breath. Then, he was gone. Hermione waited a few minutes leafing through the book of locks, and heard the door to the portrait hole open and shut.  
  
"There," Ron said as he walked toward the sofa once more. "I told you I could do it."  
  
Hermione stood up and went over to meet him. She smiled. "I knew you could." She said it very softly.  
  
Ron, suddenly realizing the trick, said, "I can't believe you did that!"  
  
"What, Weasley?" she challenged. "Can't take something for your own good?" She threw a playful punch into his shoulder.  
  
Ron looked up from his shoulder to Hermione. "I cannot believe you just did that!" he said again.  
  
"You can't?"  
  
"No," he said, staring straight at her, "And now you shall pay!" He dove at her, his arms grabbing her waist and tickling her sides. She yelped loudly and turned around, pushing him to the floor.  
  
"Ha!" she said triumphantly. "I've got you pinned, Weasley." She lay on him a second longer before sitting up and saying, "So, you agree to teleportation?"  
  
He seemed to think on this, and so, to prod him, began to tickle him. "Fine, fine!" he yelled. "I agree already!"  
  
She stopped at once. "Good." She was about to get up, but a pair of hands pulled her back down.  
  
"Who says this tickle fight is over?" Ron said. He pushed her down onto the floor, so that now he had pinned her, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that now he was directly on top of her. She swallowed. Good thing no one is around, she thought.  
  
It was unfortunate she didn't see the Weasley twins watching from the other side of the room.  
  
Yes, I know I promised you more plot but there is going to be plenty of romance, I did promise that too. The next chapter is going to be more of that, and then we'll launch into some serious plot. Some of you may be wondering what the deal with Ms. Harper is, but that will come up soon! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	8. An Interesting Prospect

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me but Ms. Harper  
  
Ron was the first to get up the next morning. He had hardly slept the previous night, what with the feel of Hermione on top of him on his mind and all. He showered, dressed, made his bed early, and decided to wait for the other two down in the Common Room. He could use a bit of alone time anyways.  
  
It would have worked out wonderfully...except that he wasn't alone.  
  
Both Fred and George greeted him with a bright. "Good morning, baby brother."  
  
"Morning," Ron said as he sat down on the sofa and pulled out Flying With Cannons. George immediately yanked the book down.  
  
"What?" he asked with a grin. "Here we are, all alone, and you're reading a book?"  
  
Ron groaned, irritated. "What do you two want?"  
  
"Nothing...." Fred said. "Except to know what was going on with you and Hermione last night."  
  
Ron glared at both of them and turned bright red. "Nothing. Leave me alone."  
  
"Certainly didn't look like nothing from where we were standing, did it George?" Fred turned to his twin, ignoring his brother's demand.  
  
"Nope, nope, nope," George agreed.  
  
"Wait a minute," Ron said, laying the book aside. "No one was there last night."  
  
"Quite contrary, dear brother," came Fred's smug reply.  
  
"You-you mean you two were there?" Ron stood up, not sure whether to be angry or embarrassed.  
  
"In the flesh."  
  
"So, pray tell, baby brother, what was going on?" George asked with a buttery grin.  
  
"Nothing," Ron stuttered. "We were just researching something." He started to leave, but was stopped at once by Fred's comment.  
  
"Seemed like research in more than one subject if you know what I mean."  
  
Ron looked ready to pounce. He grabbed his brother, of whom he had about an inch over, by the shoulders and raised an arm. Then, remembering how Hermione would have handled the situation, he put it down. "You two say you were there. If you were, then you'd know that nothing happened. Now leave me alone." He stressed the last sentence.  
  
"G'morning, all," Harry said as he descended from the stairs.  
  
"Good morning," Hermione said, close behind. She eyed the twins snickering and asked, "What's so funny?"  
  
Ron glared at them once more before saying, "Never mind. They seem to find just plenty funny this morning." He quickly ushered his best friends out of the Common Room.  
  
***********************  
  
It was later that afternoon in their Study Hall period that the trio found time to meet in the Common Room. Hermione was anxious to tell Harry what they had found the previous night, and Harry was quite anxious to find out.  
  
"Listen," Hermione said as she placed her books on the coffee table in front of her. "Last night, we found out exactly what we're looking for."  
  
"It's a Muggle lock, then?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, if it's in a book of Muggle locks it must be magical, then, shouldn't it?" Ron's daily sarcasm had begun.  
  
After shooting him a glare, Hermione said, "Yes." She opened the dark green book in front of her to page twenty five, revealing the picture they had found the previous night. "See, this is the key we've got," she said, pointing. "And this is the lock we're looking for. Model A25G6. From 1963."  
  
"Gosh, that's old." Harry knew that it was nearly forty years.  
  
"Exactly what I said!" Ron exclaimed. "But then Hermione figured out where we could find it."  
  
Hermione blushed lightly before continuing. "The Shrieking Shack, Harry. The locks in there haven't been changed for a long time. Probably since Remus Lupin's day." She looked at him.  
  
"Yes, you're probably right," Harry mused. "But how do we get in there? The cloak won't cover all three of us now." He eyed Ron's tall stature.  
  
Hermione smiled smugly. "Figured that one, too."  
  
"What, then?"  
  
"Simple." She eyed them both. "Teleportation."  
  
Harry's eyes grew wide. Why hadn't he thought of that? It was the obvious and best solution. But... "Hermione, it's a pretty long distance. Can we do that?"  
  
She nodded quickly, and pushed her hair behind her ears. "I think we should be able to manage it."  
  
"Well-well........" Harry couldn't think of something to say. "It sounds good to me, but....." his eyes darted to Ron. "You agreed to this?" He asked the question skeptically.  
  
Ron nodded, reddening slightly.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows and let his head move quickly to Hermione. "How'd you do that?"  
  
She smiled smugly again, leaning back, and pretending to pay a great deal of attention to her nail tips. "Oh, I have my ways, Harry, I have my ways."  
  
Harry could only shake his head aside from being dumbfounded. "Okay, so when do we go?"  
  
"Well, not this weekend because I-" Hermione was cut off by Ron.  
  
"You're tutoring Neville, you've told us five times already, damnit!"  
  
Harry, who was not quite ready for a bickering session just yet, decided to settle the matter quickly. "How about next weekend, then?"  
  
This seemed to agree with everyone quite well, as Quidditch practice was usually not held on weekends, and Hermione had no intention of tutoring again. Then Ron asked something they'd all been wondering for a while.  
  
"Why do we have to find the stupid lock anyhow?"  
  
Harry and Hermione glanced at one another, but it was Hermione who took the initiative to speak.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?"  
  
"No, not really, if you ask me," Ron said stubbornly.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Well, behind every lock must be a door, right? Ron, this key was given to us for a reason. There's something behind whatever door its lock is in front of. And we've got to find out what it is."  
  
"I wish that old man hadn't given us the stupid key. Everything always happens to us." Ron had on his sulky face.  
  
"But that's life," Hermione remarked wistfully.  
  
"I guess so," was Harry's almost mute reply.  
  
The three looked at each other. What could they do?  
  
************************  
  
It was the last time that week that Harry had Quidditch practice, and he head off to the field straight after dinner as usual. This left Ron and Hermione very much to themselves once more, and as there were no plans, they took their time in walking back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was actually very much all right with their aloneness, and for some reason didn't seem quite nervous this evening. Things were going quite well, as a matter of fact. Ron was telling Hermione some story he had heard Dean telling Seamus about a Muggle, and she was laughing in all the right places. She always did that. In fact, things were almost perfect....  
  
Until they were interrupted.  
  
"Hello, Weasley," an unmistakably cold voice said.  
  
Ron turned to face Malfoy with fierce eyes. "What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
"Only to pay you back for what you did to me on the train," came his reply.  
  
"Certainly took your time, didn't you?" Hermione asked sardonically.  
  
Malfoy glared. "I'd watch that mouth, bitch. God knows what trouble it could land you into." And without another word, he outstretched his arms and shoved Hermione forcefully to the ground.  
  
"Get your fucking hands off her!" Ron lunged at Malfoy, but Hermione raised herself just in time to stop him.  
  
Malfoy seemed to find this amusing. "Looks like your Mudblood whore of a girlfriend finally got some sense."  
  
They both tinged a horrible red, but Hermione was quick to reply. "No, I just didn't want him to waste his energy on you."  
  
A haze blew over Malfoy's cold gray eyes. "Never mind that. You've all got the same fortune as Potter- dead."  
  
Hermione moved closer to him, even through Ron's tugging against it. "How dare you insult Harry after what he's been through. You have no idea, do you, just keep trying to make that huge ego of yours bigger-"  
  
Malfoy actually laughed in her face. "Egos, Granger? Shall we have a chat about egos? All right." His face hardened. "You, Mudblood, have the biggest ego I have ever seen. You seem to think you know everything, don't you? Answering questions all the time, being a little teacher's pet. And you think I have a big ego? Ha!" he spat. "Yes, Granger, you can pass an exam, but what you really are is nothing but a common, filthy, Muggle."  
  
A look Ron had never seen crossed Hermione's face. He wasn't quite sure what to think, so he decided to stick to his gut reaction: attack.  
  
"You know what, Malfoy?" he started, but Hermione cut him off by pulling on his robes.  
  
"Never mind, Ron," she said, her voice suddenly void of all emotion. She had the same strange look on her face as she said, "Let's just go."  
  
Ron was torn between his worst enemy and his best friend. After a quick internal battle, he chose Hermione. He shot one last glare at a hysterically laughing Malfoy before following her down the hall.  
  
They walked together quietly to the Common Roon, and after a few minutes, Ron heard what he might choose to describe as a sniffle. A look of concern crossed his face as he asked, "Hermione, are you all right?"  
  
Another sniffle. "Yes, yes of course." Her voice sounded nasal and a tad raspy.  
  
Ron didn't believe her, but wasn't sure whether to push her or just leave her be. He used his logic to decide. If she would let him know what was wrong, he might be able to stop her crying, and, God, he was in so much pain when she cried. But if she became mad and closed off (which Hermione could very well be), she'd be mad at him, too... Finally, he turned to Hermione and stopped her. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight at her.  
  
"Hermione," he said softly. She was still looking at the ground and sniffling. He could see, even though it was a very limited view, her eyes were unusually shiny. "Look at me." He put a finger to her chin and lifted it up, willing her to look at him. Now he could see her eyes were really welling up with tears, and her cheeks were already a bit tear streaked and flushed.  
  
She sniffled again. "What?" It was almost a whisper.  
  
"What's wrong?" Ron wanted to know where on earth he was getting the courage to be so...controlled. It was strange. "Why are you crying?"  
  
She stayed silent for several minutes before speaking very softly. "Malfoy...." She barely had time to finish the sentence.  
  
"You actually believe what that ruddy bastard says?" Ron was astonished. His sudden reaction prodded a sob from Hermione, and when Ron realized his mistake, he decided to stick to being gentle. "Look, Hermione, you're way better than-"  
  
"No, Ron!" Her sudden outburst caused him to widen his eyes. "It's not that. I know some of the things Malfoy says aren't true. I know that I'm not a whore. I know that being Muggle born isn't horrible. It's today he said something.... something I think might be true." A tear fell.  
  
Ron quietly racked his brain. "About your having a big ego?" When she nodded, he shook his head. "Hermione, you do not have a big ego."  
  
She protested at once. "But he's right! I do answer every question, and you cannot deny I am a teacher's pet." She looked miserable.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron was shocked. "Doing all that doesn't mean you have a big ego." He looked her in the eye again. "It means you're smart. Look," he said, starting on a new tactic. "Do you know what it means to have a big ego? To have a big ego you've got to brag a lot." He paused. "And not once in my life have I ever seen you brag. You-you-" Ron hesitated. "You're the most humble person I know."  
  
She blushed, so he said, "See? I knew it." He lifted her chin again and looked at her smiling. "Now," he said, and instinctively reached for her hand, "are you all right?"  
  
She smiled and nodded. She felt his hand lightly on hers, their fingers gently brushing, and it was all the assurance she needed. But before she could start walking, she felt his arms wrap around her. She put her arms around him, and quietly melted into his embrace. She felt, quite honestly, relieved. She was glad Ron had been the one to be here, glad they were alone. She knew that situation would have been quite awkward (and definitely not as....wonderful?) if it were Harry. But Ron had been the one here, and it had seemed he had known exactly what she needed to hear. Even though she had never seen this behavior out of him, she had a feeling it had always been there. For now, however, she was just happy to be with him. She felt very safe with him, and had the feeling she could stay this way forever.  
  
Ron closed his eyes and exhaled. He wondered what could have possessed him to have the courage to say all that. But if this was the result, he didn't exactly mind. He wrapped him arms just noticeably tighter around her waist. Holding her felt like the most natural thing in the world for him. Suddenly, he realized they were in the middle of a Hogwarts hallway, and could be spied by anyone. He slowly, very reluctantly, pulled away.  
  
"We should be getting back," he lied.  
  
She nodded, and they walked on.  
  
*******************************  
  
Meanwhile, across the castle, in Dumbledore's office, the Hogwarts headmaster was meeting with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
  
"How do you know?" he asked her. His voice was weary.  
  
"Listen," Ms. Harper said in a quietly rushed voice. "I saw them this morning talking about some kind of a lock. They had a book of some kind."  
  
"Angelique," Dumbledore said. "I'm not quite sure that is valid proof that they know anything."  
  
"Dumbldore, look. They have a book on locks. They're talking about a key. They've got to know something about what's going on!"  
  
"Oh, I'll have to disagree with you on that, Angelique. Harry Potter may be famous, but he is guaranteed just as clueless as you or I."  
  
Ms. Harper raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You sure?" He looked at her, and she replied with a short, "Fine."  
  
"He knows, most likely, close to nothing. Hardly anyone over here knows. But I never expected this. After last year, we were aware that Voldemort was after Harry, and I realize he is in great danger." He stressed the last two words. "And I do know it is completely up to him to face whatever it is that he must. But I never could have thought Voldemort's next move would be this. So I cannot let Harry, nor either one of his friends, for that matter, do this alone." Dumbledore's blue eyes looked up.  
  
"I'm not saying he has to do it alone," Ms. Harper replied. "In fact, I am completely willing to help."  
  
"Really?" Now it was Dumbledore's turn to look skeptical. But as the look on the young teacher's face remained the same, his voice grew weary once more. "If you insist...."  
  
Ms. Harper looked up almost haughtily. "Well, I do insist. Harry, Ron, and Hermione won't do this alone; I'll be there. God knows Voldemort deserves everything he gets. That son of a bitch-"  
  
"Actually," Ms. Harper was interrupted by a lemon-drop sucking Dumbledore. "Voldemort's mum, Harriet, was a good student and very friendly during all her Hogwarts years."  
  
"Then God knows how he turned out so fucked up," Ms. Harper muttered under her breath.  
  
Dumbledore instantly looked up, causing Ms. Harper to tinge red. "Sorry," she whispered.  
  
Dumbledore merely shook his head. "Well, if you'd excuse me Angelique, it's my bedtime, so I should be heading off. Thank you for coming."  
  
They bid one another farewell, and Ms. Harper showed herself the door.  
  
Well, she though as she walked toward her bedroom. This was bound to be an interesting prospect. ************************  
  
WEEEE I'M BACK! I know, I was gone for two weeks, but I will make up for it, I promise. I've gotten all the way to thirteen written, so there is so much more coming! PLEASE REVIEW OR I MIGHT NOT CONTINUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


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